Koan
Waking to Truth
The mountains are the mountains
Arriving here like opening your eyes for the first time to see them grand, majestic everywhere Drink it all in Taste everything No separation What else is there but novelty and curiosity a rare excitement do not lose it, know you cannot hold it
The mountains are no longer the mountains
Corralled through darkly lit tunnels, vision shrouded by the cataracts of necessity, duty, even easy pleasures, that are neither easy nor always pleasant. and your own skin, now intimately aware of its thin nakedness, parts with nature; only to seek what is lost, through the pinhole eyes of certainty longing for a hallucination of another age
The mountains are the mountains again
glance sideways, melt your gaze, allow your eyes to be soft again, for truth settles at the edges of certainty and so you see they are where they have always been waiting for you to open your eyes, again, not for the first time anew, experience filled risen from slumber duality now a washcloth you have used and no longer need